The week went by in a blur of magically-induced exhaustion.

Twilight spent as much time as she could on the farm, protecting the trees and crops from the wasteland’s relentless red sun.

At the same time, she would sacrifice a dose of her magic to the invisible border around the town. It was worth it, she decided, especially to see all those exhausted unicorns with genuine smiles on their faces. Some of them even followed Twilight around, studying her spell work. They were committed to memorising her spells so that Twilight wouldn’t have to perform them alone in the future. Twilight couldn’t help but commend that.

It was hard work, but it was consuming work, which meant that Twilight could focus on it without thinking too much about what the end of the week would entail. Every time she got into bed, her mind would wander to the halls at Canterlot palace; she would see the lab there, clean and pristine as always. She refused to imagine a lab with cobwebs and dust, without ponies in lab coats studying the experiments that Celestia had approved of and funded for their projects.

Twilight remembered being a young filly, staring in wide eyed wonderment at the way those ponies had been able to manipulate the world – not just with magic, but with science. She became obsessed with it – how two compounds could be put together to create something entirely different, how new and exciting technology was being developed right under everypony’s noses and none of them ever seemed to realise.

As she grew older, Twilight had used what she’d learnt from watching those ponies in her own magic. In some ways, she believed that a perfect mixture of science and magic was what had brought her to where she was now. The Element of Magic. Princess of Friendship.
Everything needed a balance – such as a balance between her magic studies and friendship – science had taught her that.

She missed Canterlot. She missed her first home. Most of all, she missed the library. All that knowledge, lost and locked away. She wished she could be there now, but she couldn’t bear the thought of what it had become in her absence. What those brutish borgs had done to her once immaculate home.

The soft snores of her friends would drive her from the dark recesses of her mind, reminding her of where she was. She was on a farm with Rarity, Applejack and Pinkie, all sleeping right next to her. She tried not to think of those that were missing. What mattered was her friends, and perhaps once they’d made that trade in Neighagra Falls, it would be those same friends that would help her make the journey to Canterlot again after all this time.

Soon she’d have the answers she was looking for; she knew it in her heart. She just had to be patient.

Within the blink of an eye, the week was up and Twilight found herself charming four jars of water for each of her friends. They’d all agreed that her weather enchantments would serve much more practical and far less time consuming than carrying dozens of jars to and from the reservoir.

Rarity had designed new and improved boots for Twilight, assuring her that these ones wouldn’t wear against the hot surface of the earth. She’d even sewed her a new cloak from a darker material, one that would blend in far better with the wasteland and prove it much harder for the borgs to see her from the sky.

Twilight kept her brass goggles. It was a tie to Rainbow Dash and she refused to let anypony take them from her. Her friends seemed to understand this without asking, which Twilight was thankful for.

All too soon they were making the journey to the edge of town.

Sweetie Belle trailed behind them, chattering insistently to Rarity, checking and double checking that she had everything with her.

“She does this every time,” Applejack said with a fond eye roll. Twilight couldn’t help but think she was reminded of her own sister.

Still, Twilight could understand Sweetie’s urgency. Going out into the wasteland was no easy feat, experiencing it on her own had been terrifying, and losing Lyra after only just reuniting with her still left an uncomfortable pressure in Twilight’s chest. A part of her was afraid of journeying out with her friends. At least when she was alone, the only pony she had to be worried for was herself. Twilight wasn’t sure what she would do if she had to witness another of her friends die.

Or partially die at least. The thought of Lyra being out there somewhere still haunted Twilight’s dreams. A husk of the former pony wandering the wasteland aimlessly, ravaging any survivors that she might find along the way. By refusing to kill Lyra, did that make Twilight responsible for every kill that husk-Lyra made? The black ooze on her hooves had been hard enough to wash off, to think of living pony blood, red and fresh, dripping from her fur…

“Twilight?”

Twilight jumped, turning to face a concerned looking Applejack. She realised that she must have still been talking. “Huh?” Twilight asked.

“You alright, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

“You are looking a tad pale, darling,” Rarity added. “Did you remember to eat breakfast this morning? I have an apple if you-”

“No it’s fine,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “Just… nervous jitters. That’s all.”

“Awww,” Pinkie said, bouncing alongside Twilight’s stride. “It’s okay Twi, we’ve all been there. Going out there is super duper scary, but together it’s a little less scary. You’ll see!”

Applejack sighed. “Maybe not the best pep talk she needs right now, Pinkie.”

“No, it’s fine.” Twilight bumped Pinkie’s shoulder, smiling gratefully. “Thanks, Pinkie. I guess it’s just a little daunting. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Among the four, they had one large cart to deal with between them. It held trading supplies for the town in Neighagra Falls which Twilight had been informed was called Emerald Pass. Inside it included a few crates of apples and cherries, jars of jams and ciders and some boots and protective gear that Rarity had been working on throughout the week. Thanks to Twilight’s help with the invisibility shroud, she’d had more time to prepare the clothing and she was more than thrilled to show it off to the survivors. Twilight thought it nice to see Rarity excited about fashion again, even if it was more about safety now than it was about style.

It was decided that Pinkie and Applejack would do most of the heavy lifting with the cart. Though everypony would have a turn with it, any hills or particularly rough terrain would be dealt with by the earth ponies. Twilight had never doubted Pinkie’s strength before – growing up on a rock farm was bound to give anypony serious skill – but the added ten years of farming made Twilight even more revered with how much the mare could carry. As for Applejack, well, she didn’t need an apocalypse to prove her strength; she’d been formidable with pulling carts since she was no bigger than Apple Bloom. Or, uh, Apple Bloom ten years prior.

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” Sweetie Belle asked again, glancing nervously at Rarity’s saddle bags. “Spare boots? Water? Oh, I can go get more food if you-”

Rarity wrapped Sweetie Belle into a tight hug, laughing softly into her sister’s mane. “I’ll be okay, Sweetie,” she assured. “In the meantime, the farm will be your responsibility alongside Big Mac.” She smiled fondly. “Do you think you’re up for the task?”

Sweetie Belle gave a serious nod. “Of course.”

“I have no doubt you’ll do a splendid job,” Rarity said, kissing her sister’s cheek. “But we must get going, every minute counts.”

Sweetie Belle’s ears drooped, but she hugged Rarity one last time before letting her go.

Twilight trotted to Rarity’s side as they lined up against the shroud. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

Rarity gave Twilight a sideways smile. There was something pained in her expression, but she sobered quickly. “I’ve done this many-a time Twilight.” She sighed, glancing to where Sweetie was stood. “It never gets any easier, I’m afraid.”

With that, Twilight and Rarity took the lead, bowing their heads towards the shroud. With their combined magic, they created a bubble big enough to encompass all four friends, plus the cart that Applejack was pulling. Everypony waved goodbye to the few ponies within seeing distance. Some of them waved back, some of them smiled, some simply continued with their chores. This was a regular occurrence, Twilight realised, everypony was resigned to what they were doing by now. The dangers that the wasteland posed had become normal to them. Twilight realised that whether or not they made it back safely, these survivors would continue to prevail without them.

Twilight ruffled her feathers uncomfortably as she walked through the shroud, Rarity by her side, Pinkie and Applejack taking up the rear.
Sweetie Belle’s face was visible for three precious seconds before the bubble popped and the shroud snapped shut, leaving nothing but the wasteland behind.

Twilight nodded towards the bleak distance. “So… which way do we go?”

Applejack trotted forward with the cart, glancing towards what remained of the railway station. “We’ll follow the rails fer ah spell.”

Rarity nodded gravely as the ponies headed forward; even the gleam in Pinkie’s eyes had dimmed. Twilight sighed, expression leveling as she followed her friends into hell.

Pinkie danced playfully from rail to rail, jumping across the abandoned track, making a game out of the broken boards that lay between. Still, Twilight could see her ears standing at attention. There was a constant wariness about her even when she seemed so carefree, a trait no doubt inherited from a life in the wasteland.

“We’re gonna take the rail ter Dodge City,” Applejack explained. The cart creaked lazily behind her. “From there we’ll take a path down past Baltimare. Baltimare’s got a few civilisations still intact as ya’ll know.” She nodded towards Rarity and Pinkie. “But Dodge City became grey grounds ah long time ago.” She bowed her head, her hat slipped forward. “Can’t be helped. It’s either that or go through Canterlot.”

Rarity shuddered; Pinkie paused on the rail she was balancing on. Her tail twitched before she continued, smiling softly to herself.

Twilight regarded her friends’ reactions doubtfully. It was the first time any of them had mentioned Canterlot without her input, and none of them seemed thrilled about it. She lowered her gaze, staring without seeing at the rails before her boot-clad hooves.

At least the clothes were helping. Rarity had been right, the boots provided more than adequate protection; Twilight could barely feel the scorching earth beneath her hooves. As for the cloak, it was dark without suffocating her in the heat. She felt light as a feather beneath it, and the material was somehow comforting instead of claustrophobic. Twilight absently blew a strand of her mane away from her muzzle.

Even with her friends by her side, the wasteland looked – unfortunately – the same. Rocks, black dirt and little to nothing else. Any trees that stood were husk-like and dead, the only change in the terrain was an odd crack here, a hole in the earth there. Twilight tried her best not to look at them, in her mind’s eye all she could see was Lyra’s face. A strained smile. A hollow gasp.

I’m coming Bon Bon.

Twilight had never asked her friends whether they’d killed husk-Bon Bon. If they had, they hadn’t told Lyra, she wouldn’t have been so willing to turn otherwise. Still, a part of Twilight hoped that they’d somehow reunited. It was a pointless dream, even if they had teamed up, they’d have only become more efficient at killing together. She doubted that the husks could feel friendship like ponies could, or anything for that matter. They probably felt hungry. Perhaps they were like changelings in that way, but even emptier on the inside.

“How do husks think?” Twilight asked absentmindedly.

“Huh?”

Twilight’s head shot up. She hadn’t realised she’d spoken out loud.

Her friends were staring at her. Pinkie’s head was tipped to one side, she wobbled on the rail before righting herself.

“I just mean,” Twilight said slowly, “from what I saw, the husks can communicate, the first two I ever met even spoke to me. But… it’s like they don’t quite have a mind of their own.” She thought back to the group she’d encountered with Lyra. The way Spitfire had spoken to them. “Do they have a leader?”

Applejack snorted. “Ah reckon so, it’s all they talk ‘bout if yer leave ‘em alive long enough.”

Rarity cringed. “I’ve definitely heard them speak of some kind of leader, although they’ve only ever referred to them as a she or her.”

“I think they have a queen,” Pinkie said with a shrug. She stuck her right hooves out, balancing precariously before leaping to the track running parallel. “Kinda like the changelings. They all talk like they share a brain.” Pinkie chuckled. “Spooky-ooky.”

Twilight frowned. “Seriously?”

Applejack smiled exasperatedly. “Sorry, Twi, we’ve never really had time ter study ‘em before on accounta the fact they keep tryin’ ter kill us.”

Rarity snorted at that. “In any case, I agree with Pinkie Pie; those creatures are far too close minded to be anything other than a queen’s drones.”

“But that’s…” Twilight shook her head. This was good, better than good; this was a step in the right direction.

If the husks shared a mind, then they must collectively relay information to their leader. If they had a leader, then whoever she was could very well be the answer to the whole infection. To be in control of the husks would mean that whatever virus or contagion lay inside this pony was significantly different from the others. In short, this fearless leader the husks talked about with such ardent reverence could very well be Patient Zero. If Twilight could successfully collect samples from her… Her mind froze, she realised her friends were still watching her. She cleared her throat, quickly finishing her sentence. “…Interesting,” she said.

“I like that word,” Pinkie said happily as she concentrated on her next jump.

“What?” Twilight asked.

“Husk,” Pinkie explained with a grin. “It sounds way better than grey. I mean grey explains what they look like, sure, but husk is all ooooooo.” Pinkie jumped onto her hind legs, making a spooky gesture with her front hooves. She giggled. “I like it!”

Twilight smiled despite herself. Despite the heat of the wasteland, the dry dirt and the horrifying possibility of being chased by the undead at any given moment, Pinkie Pie was still Pinkie Pie.

“I like it too,” she agreed.

“Uh-oh.”

Some hours into their travel, Pinkie had paused, leaping from the track to stare directly out ahead of her.

Twilight glanced to Applejack for an explanation, but her expression was stony as she looked past Pinkie’s gaze.

“What is it?” Twilight asked, looking to Rarity in confusion.

If it was possible, Rarity looked even paler. Her eyes were wide, her chest rigid. “Nothing good,” she clarified.

“Husks,” Pinkie said, pointing her hoof down the railway.

Twilight squinted, she couldn’t see anything. “How do you know?” she asked.

Pinkie glared into the distance. She didn’t respond.

“Makes sense,” Applejack said reluctantly. “We’re comin’ up ter Dodge City. The track’s aboutta run right up close ter it.”

Twilight nodded, eyes narrowing. This was something she could deal with at least. She looked to Rarity. “Ready?”

Rarity shook herself, snapping her mouth shut. She smiled warily. “I suppose so.”

In the last ten years, Rarity’s magic had greatly advanced from the simple levitation that all unicorns were expected to perform. Although it was rare for unicorns to delve into the darker arts – namely, attack magic – in this world, it seemed it was necessary. As a pony who made frequent trips out into the wasteland, Rarity had accumulated several good attack spells, including the ones Twilight had witnessed Lyra perform.

Although Pinkie and Applejack had strength on their side, Twilight and Rarity had distance. You couldn’t be overpowered by a hoard of husks if they weren’t able to make it to your vicinity in the first place.

Twilight smiled, lowering her head as she and Rarity took the lead. Applejack took centre with the cart, Pinkie keeping close to her side. She’d procured a loose plank from one of the tracks and had it clamped firmly between her teeth.

Twilight supposed they were as ready as they would ever be.

Dodge City appeared as a hazy backdrop to a chaos-fuelled dispute.

Six husks were gathered on the tracks ahead of them. One had been a unicorn once, although the flesh around its skull was mottled and rotted. The rest were earth ponies, two male and three female. Their green manes were matted and loose, one of the males was moving with a visible limp, the unicorn was a mare and she bared her jagged teeth at a husk that was laid out on the track. She spoke to it, her words lost on the dusty air. That didn’t keep Twilight from imagining the husk speaking – that robotic chime chorusing inside her head. She shuddered.

Pinkie Pie bit down hard on her plank, expression solidifying.

Before Twilight realised it herself, the husks had noticed their presence on the tracks. The one on the ground leapt to its hooves at a speed she didn’t think possible for something so rotted. This particular husks’ muzzle had peeled away completely, leaving nothing but a skeletal snout and black gristle in its wake. One of its eyes was missing.

The once-unicorn sized up Twilight immediately. A smile rippled over its decaying features.

“Princessss,” she said.

Twilight charged. Beside her, Rarity did the same.

The fight was close-knit and confusing. Twilight’s focus had been so firmly fixed on the unicorn running for her that she hadn’t noticed the husk stallion gallop in from her left. She shot a blast of magic at the unicorn which was narrowly dodged, only to find Pinkie leaping in out from nowhere. The blur of a plank was all Twilight saw before a satisfying crunch resounded from her left and the husk stallion’s head was caved inwards. He fell, but didn’t die. Pinkie winked at Twilight for what seemed like a millisecond before she leapt at the husk, throwing the plank at him with all her might.

Twilight looked away, aiming again for the unicorn. She saw a flash of white magic hit a husk in the background, a spray of crystalized bone and blood exploded like sick confetti in the distance. Rarity’s lips twisted into a grim smile as she aimed her horn at her latest attacker.
Twilight’s attention wavered and she missed a second time. The once-unicorn grinned broadly, her glass-like teeth glistening under the red sun.

“Alicornn,” the once-unicorn hissed in her disharmonious drawl. “Princessss.”

“That’s me,” Twilight muttered. This time she didn’t miss.

The creature howled as her horn was ripped from her head, singeing her dead mane in the process. She wavered, but didn’t drop. Instead, she dipped her head and charged.

Twilight ducked out of the way a second too late. The husk collided with her shoulder, bringing both of them down against the hot earth.
Twilight felt a rock cut into her flank, felt the warmth of blood blossoming against her side, but she paid it no mind. She rolled with the husk in the dirt, her shoulder slipping in and out of cracks in the earth. One moment, she would find herself upright and towering atop her attacker, only to find herself on the ground a second later. Twilight yelped as she felt another rock dig into her back. The husk laughed like a dying animal.

Twilight closed her eyes, forcing her magic’s radius to encompass the both of them. A second later, the motion was stopped, but not in the way that Twilight had hoped. Staring upwards, she found the once-unicorn stood over her, its rotten hooves harnessed in the dirt on either side of her head.

The husk chuckled. “Ssshe wants you,” the husk said. “but ssshe won’t have you.” The husk’s face came down towards her, its snout exhaled a puff of rotten breath into Twilight’s muzzle. Twilight gagged, eyes watering beneath her goggles. The husk flashed its glass teeth. “I want you,” it said. “Magic and flesh and blood. So much magic. Alicorn magic. Princess magic!”

Twilight had had enough. With a barely stifled roar, her horn exploded, sending the husk flying into the air. It skidded, fur ripping from its underside as it stopped several feet away. Motionless and stunned, Twilight finally had her chance.

She didn’t waste it this time.

The creature didn’t even have time to register what was happening. Its grey eyes brightened with recognition for one precious second before its head exploded, showering the surrounding area in long-dead blood.

Twilight panted, energy flaring as she glanced out hungrily for more. Around her were the remains of four other husk bodies not including her own. With a yell from Applejack, the final husk was propelled into the air by a well-aimed kick. As the creature landed, Pinkie whacked it in the head with her plank, now dripping with black ooze. Rarity yelled out, her mane was frazzled, her eyes wide. She blasted the husk – although it was already visibly dead – with her magic. The creature’s already deformed head was reduced to nothing but flesh and cracked bone. Twilight glanced away as the black ooze sprayed outward.

Rarity’s chest heaved as she circled the ground she was stood on, nearly tripping over her own hooves. “Was that the last of them?” she managed through gasps. Twilight could tell she was close to hyperventilating.

Mimicking the actions of the first friend she’d met in this new world, she levitated a jar of water from her saddle bags. “Rarity,” she said softly. “Here.”

Rarity’s pupils were as tiny as pinpricks, but they were still able to register the water before her. Her breath slowed, her legs wobbled.

Pinkie was there in an instant, holding her steady. She murmured something to Rarity as she drank deeply, to which Rarity nodded, closing her eyes.

Applejack was drinking too, though she didn’t look nearly as frazzled. In fact, once she paused for breath, she nodded to the cart. “You’re hurt,” she said.

It took Twilight a moment to realise she was talking to her.

It took Twilight a moment longer to register the pain burning through her flank.

“So I am,” she said, nodding weakly. “Uh… how bad is it?”

Applejack slipped her jar onto the cart. “Not too bad,” she said, frowning. “Still, we’ll need ter patch it up ‘fore we continue. Chances are, that was jus’ the welcomin’ committee.”

“Great,” Rarity said through gritted teeth.

Pinkie forced a smile.

Applejack secured some gauze around Twilight’s flank, which immediately began to dye red. The injury wouldn’t need stitches, but the blood would be a definite problem. Although husks weren’t the brightest bunch around, they could smell pony blood from a mile away. Something told Twilight hers would be extra potent.

Dodge City passed in a haze of blood and screaming, metallic voices and desperate yells. By the time they’d made it past the city and onto the dirt track leading to Baltimare, everypony was covered in dirt, grime and a substantial coating of black ooze.

Twilight quickly observed that the blood wasn’t dangerous so-long as it didn’t go past the skin. After her injury, she’d conjured a simpler version of her protection spell, coating the area of her wound with a thin layer of magic to protect it from infection of any kind. She didn’t much feel like turning into a husk on their journey to Emerald Pass, especially as her friends would have been the ones to have to kill her if she did.

They’d stopped to wash some of the blood from their coats under the shade of a long-dead tree. With only water jars to work with, the task was slow and practically pointless, but everyone felt a little fresher once it was finished. Pinkie had even found a new, cleaner stick to play with.

It was Rarity’s turn with the cart, but Twilight insisted she go instead. Her friend still seemed twitchy, her nervous energy had worked on the battlefield – not a single husk had gotten close enough to do her damage – but there was something wild in Rarity’s eyes that Twilight was unsure of.

Twilight trotted alongside Applejack, trying to find a comfortable position for her wings beneath the cart’s rough harness. “Is Rarity okay?” she asked quietly. She didn’t think Rarity could hear her, Pinkie seemed to be keeping her occupied with a long-winded summary of the battle she’d had with a pretty resilient husk.

Applejack mulled over Twilight’s words before sighing. “Okay as she can be.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

“She ain’t a fighter,” Applejack said slowly. “Sure, she’s trained and she knows what she’s doin’, but every journey out the wasteland is jus’… it does damage to her mind.” Applejack tapped the side of her head with her hoof. “Ah’ve seen it before, some ponies jus’ can’t cope with this world. Rarity’s stronger than most, she does what she can ter get by.” Applejack shrugged. “Sometimes Ah wonder if she only does it ‘cause of Sweetie Belle.”

“Then why come out at all?” Twilight asked. “I mean, couldn’t she just stay at the farm and help there?”

Applejack smiled at that. “Rarity’s the element of Generosity fer a reason, sugarcube. She makes all them fancy outfits that keep ponies safe out here. Keeps them from catchin’ sunstroke, keeps them from burnin’ their hooves on the dirt. She loves seein’ smiles on ponies’ faces, ‘specially if she caused ‘em.” Applejack looked towards Rarity with something of respect in her eyes. “Ah can’t say Ah’ve ever seen a pony more dedicated ter keepin’ everyone she can as safe an’ protected as possible.”

Twilight blinked, realising that her eyes were beginning to tear up. She cleared her throat, but couldn’t find anything to say. Instead she just nodded, focusing her energy on pulling the cart fast enough to match Applejack’s superior stride.

The journey to Emerald Pass would take a day or two at best. Dodge City was a no-go for stopping, but Applejack had promised that Baltimare would house them for an evening.

Twilight learned that trades were made with the survivors at Baltimare often. They’d managed to get their own farms going out there, and in general the community was larger than the one in Appleloosa. Still, the ponies there weren’t as experienced with magic and farming. They didn’t have any spells to keep them protected from borg or husk invasions, but fortunately they’d survived every one they'd met so far. They were grateful for extra supplies, and Applejack had hinted that new spells ran like a fine currency in this world. If Twilight could spare a few lessons to some of the unicorns during their stay, then the Baltimare base would be more than willing to welcome four extra mares for the night with open hooves.

Twilight was just able see the city in the distance when Rarity shrieked.

Pinkie clamped a hoof over Rarity’s mouth, turning her head towards Applejack and Twilight with wide eyes. Twilight had rarely seen Pinkie afraid – she was usually one to laugh in the face of danger after all – but this seemed to run deeper than fear. This was a terror only built on by personal experience, constructed brutally by witnessing true horror first-hoof. Twilight glanced towards the sky in question. Pinkie nodded.

Borgs.

Twilight knew what to do.

As if in a dream, Twilight threw the cart’s harness from her back with the help of her wings. She closed her eyes, and in the next second all three of her friends were caught in her magic, glowing with a subdued pink aura. Rarity and Pinkie were lifted from the ground, landing just inches from Twilight. Applejack was pulled closer to Twilight’s side.

Twilight could hear the beat of mechanical wings in the distance. Could nearly smell the smoke and blood in the air. She did her best to ignore those senses, instead honing all of her focus on her magic. She could add to an invisibility shroud at a compound based in Appleloosa no problem; the spell had been pre-existing and enhanced daily by several other unicorns. Creating an invisibility shroud for herself would have been taxing but doable. Creating an invisibility shroud for four ponies? That would be much harder. For it to work at all, she would have to time it perfectly.

Twilight counted the wing beats in the sky, trying to predict how close the borg was by the drone in the air. It was easier to guess by watching the dawning look of horror on Rarity’s face. Twilight took a stab in the dark and cast the shroud at the moment both sound and expression coincided best. It opened like a bubble, creating a shimmering surface around the four ponies. Twilight reached out and extended her magic to her rooted Alicorn abilities, strengthening the shroud.

Rarity’s eyes widened when she realised what was happening. Twilight ground her hooves into the dirt, the stress of the spell a visible weight on her back. Something flew overhead at a speed strong enough to move the loose rocks on the ground. Twilight bit her lip.

Then the weight lifted. A warm, ethereal, white glow was added to her magic. The shroud blossomed outwards, comfortably fitting the four inside now instead of straining around their bodies. Rarity’s smile was shaky, but the magic was familiar to her – a spell she’d been performing for ten years. Another shape followed the first in the sky, leaving an electric blue trail of sparks in its wake. The colour was astonishing against the red sky; nearly alien.

A third form appeared, this one leaving nothing but smoke behind, like a busted piece of machinery skittering pollution into the horizon.
Rarity was watching the sky, horn aglow. With the final figure passed, she nodded to Twilight, expression solemn.

Twilight let go of the spell, sweat blossoming on her forehead. She resisted the urge to fall to the ground. A spell that, in her old world, would have been so simple, took every bit of energy for her to perform now. She panted, realising just how thirsty she was.

Rarity held a jar out for her in her own magic. Twilight sipped from it gratefully. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t have been able to-”

“It’s alright,” Rarity said, her smile was stronger this time. She hugged Twilight gently once the jar was half empty. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Something about that declaration made the warmth in Twilight’s stomach enlarge tenfold. She wanted to hug Rarity again and never let go, but Applejack was still stiff as a board and Pinkie was gazing up at the sky, gaze distant and somewhat dreamy. They had to keep moving. If there were borgs in the area then it was imperative that they get to Baltimare as soon as possible.

The scream that cut through the air, however, stopped any train of thought Twilight might have had.

A quick count of her friends proved the scream hadn’t come from any of them. It had come from somewhere ahead, somewhere in the wasteland. In the direction – Twilight realised with a sinking in her gut – that the borgs had gone.

“Oh no,” Twilight murmured.

She was galloping forwards before she could stop herself.

“Twilight!” Applejack called out, suddenly finding her voice. It came out strangled, indistinct, but Twilight could sense her friend’s desperation.

“Twi!” Pinkie yelled, and a beat later Rarity called out too.

Twilight could hear her friend’s hoof steps behind her. That would be good. If something had happened to somepony… they would all have to be there to help.

The wasteland tore past Twilight’s vision in a blur. The hot air ripped at her coat, the dust caught in her nostrils, but she ignored it. She ignored everything. The screams had become wails, first grief-stricken and then, quickly, turned to rage, echoing against the sky.

Twilight skidded on her hooves, nearly running directly into the culprit.

A grey mare was stood in the wasteland, slate-grey eyes staring up at the sky in ardent desperation. Had it not been for her light blue mane that fell in depleted swirls around her shoulders, Twilight would have thought that the pony was a husk.

She was weeping, staring up at the sky, her wails alternating from yells to screams, back to wails again. Finally, the mare’s lips trembled and she fell to her fore hooves, head pressing into the dirt.

Twilight reached out a hoof awkwardly. She wasn’t sure if she should touch the mare, or wait until she had settled. Would she settle?

“Excuse me?” Twilight barely whispered.

The mare turned so fast Twilight nearly screamed herself. She stood to her full height – just a little shorter than Twilight – and nearly bumped straight into her muzzle. The mare’s fur bristled in outrage and with a wisp of air, two feathered wings flared out at her sides.

Twilight gasped.

“You’re a-”

“Pegasus,” the mare bit out acidly. “Yeah, I know.”

It seemed, Twilight realised, she got the question a lot.

It didn’t stop her from asking.

“How-”

“Twilight!”

Applejack had caught up, Rarity and Pinkie just hoof steps behind.

The mare looked at Twilight, her eyes red-rimmed, then to her friends. Then, with a jolt, she looked back to Twilight.

The mare’s lips trembled. “You’re a…”

Twilight realised the pegasus wasn’t the only weird sight in this wasteland. She suddenly felt a little self-conscious. “Alicorn,” she murmured, trying but failing to replicate the mare’s tone.

The mare choked out a strained laugh. “A… wow.” She shook her head bitterly. “Just my bucking luck.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Applejack growled, lining up side-by-side with Twilight.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “AJ,” she hissed. “Don’t.” She gave the mare a level look. “What happened? We heard you scream.”

The mare blinked, her eyes glistened with fresh tears. “Borgs,” she said, her tone dripping with poison. “They took the mare I was sent out with. Twinkle Shine. She…” her voice drew off. The mare took a shuttering breath. “They just grabbed her. I couldn’t-” she shook her head. “They were gone before I could even take off.”

“You’re from Baltimare,” Rarity realised.

The mare nodded. “First trip outta the compound… we were just supposed to be doing a routine scouting. We don’t get too many greys in the direct area. But… we hadn’t been watching the skies.” She closed her eyes in frustration. “So stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, silly,” Pinkie said, smiling softly. “Anypony can make that mistake. Borgs are rare.” She shrugged, looking up at the sky. “If Rarity hadn’t screamed so loud, we might be borg-candy right now.” She giggled at the thought. Twilight tried not to feel unsettled by that.

Rarity gave the mare a sympathetic smile. “What’s your name?”

The mare’s expression solidified. “Foggy Night.”

“Well, Foggy,” Applejack said, “how well’d yer know this Twinkle Shine?”

Foggy grimaced. “Not well. But… we were s’posed to keep each other safe.”

Twilight’s heart squeezed in her chest. She understood what it felt like to be responsible for another pony’s life. The fear of losing them was bad enough, but to feel that guilt weigh down upon you if and when it actually happened? To feel like you’d personally failed?

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But maybe it’s not too late.”

Applejack was already shaking her head. “Don’t think like that,” she warned. “It ain’t good ter hope ‘bout that sorta thing.”

Rarity’s forehead creased. She nodded forlornly. “I’m afraid she’s right, sweetness.”

Pinkie shrugged. “I don't know, Twi.” She cocked her head to one side before making a face. “It's a real long shot.”

Twilight frowned. “That’s what you all think?”

“What else can we think?” Foggy asked before bowing her head. “I…” Her lips were trembling again.

“It’ll be alright sugarcube,” Applejack said. She’d never been a good liar. “We’ll walk yer back ter base, we was headin’ there anyway.”

Foggy choked on a sob.

Perhaps it was just ill timing, a sad twist of fate. Perhaps the universe truly hated them, but no sooner had Applejack offered their help did a distant, strangled scream echo in the dusty air.

Twilight’s ears perked up. “There,” she said, turning to her friends desperately. “You see!?”

Everypony was looking at her sadly. “Twi…” Applejack said slowly.

“Oh darling,” Rarity whispered.

“Don’t you see?” Twilight asked again, harder this time. “She’s still alive!”

She turned and ran, galloping through the dirt, ignoring her friend’s cries in the distance. This time she didn’t care if they followed, she barely paid attention to the sounds coming from behind her anyway. All she cared about was the mare screaming, and the chance that she could save her.

They were the Elements of Harmony. This was their job.

Twilight nearly tripped over her own hooves, so she abandoned them, lifting herself inches above the ground, propelling herself forward with her wings.

As the sounds got closer, she touched down again, hooves painfully skidding against the ashy surface.

She’d reached the mare, barely recognising the scene before her as she landed.

The same wasteland stretched into the distance, but Twilight knew she’d never been here before, never stepped hoof here on her way to Appleloosa or on her way to Baltimare.

A soft pink unicorn mare was laid out in the dirt. The borgs were nowhere in sight, but there was a husk, just one, stood in the dirt. Twilight thought she might recognize the husk, but she wasn’t sure. Could it have been the one that had survived Spitefire’s attack? They all looked so alike. Same colour, same rotten flesh. Same manes, same eyes… but she looked familiar, didn’t she?

The unicorn’s mane was blue and purple. It had been styled once, but was so matted in blood that it was hard to tell what that style might have been.

The husk was stood over the unicorn. She was no longer screaming; instead violent, barely audible sobs shook her whole frame. Tears bled from her eyes like a broken faucet. A chunk of her flank had been ripped out, obliterating her cutie mark entirely. It wept fresh blood.

Twilight stared at the husk. Her legs suddenly felt like jelly, she wasn’t sure how she was even standing. She tried to yell something, but her voice refused to work.

The husk bowed her head over the unicorn’s. And then, with no warning at all, she bit the unicorn’s horn in two. Her glass teeth shred through the bone like it was nothing. Twilight’s heart lurched as the crack echoed in the air.

The unicorn was beyond screaming. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her eyes went wide before falling half-lidded, barely alive.
A stream of baby pink energy poured from her horn. Uncontained magic free and new to the world was being forcibly drained from her. Twilight watched, unable to move, as the husk opened its glass mouth and the magic seeped inside.

The colour drained from Twinkle Shine’s coat, taking on a sickly hue. Her eyes nearly closed, like there were weights being pressed on her lids, but she struggled for life, struggled for hope.

Twilight managed to step forward. One hoof cracked into the dirt.

“Stop!” She’d meant for her voice to resonate – like that of Luna’s Royal voice when addressing her subjects. But instead it came out rough, barely audible. It was brushed away like a leaf on one’s shoulder, carried in the opposite direction by a phantom breeze.

Then the husk descended on the unicorn, sinking its shard-like teeth into her chest.

“No!” Twilight managed something of a strangled whimper that time. She shot forward on legs she couldn’t feel, not sure what she was going to do. She shot a blast of magic at the husk, but it missed by several yards, burning a nearby rock.

The husk looked upwards, a twisted grin forming on its deformed face. Several ribs still jutted out of its body from where Spitfire had kicked it, but Twilight could see something writhing beneath its chest. The bones were crunching inside of her, moving and rearranging – fixing themselves. Just like magic.

Twilight looked to the baby pink unicorn with the baby pink magic.

She was writhing in pain, and this time her screams carried, but they were nothing like the screams of before. This time a mechanical undertone sang softly with each scream. Her eyes bugged out – now too wide for her head – the irises were shifting, darkening from their once-blue to something deader. The blood on her flank was already thickening, turning to oily ooze.

Twilight shook her head. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.

She couldn’t.

She didn’t even know this unicorn. But she couldn’t.

Something made a noise behind her, but it was so warped, like her ears were full of water. Twilight couldn’t make sense of it.

Then the husk’s head exploded. It was almost comical how suddenly it happened. Like a monster in a cartoon. A piece of shattered skull landed by Twilight’s hoof. The body collapsed to the ground. Dead.

Rarity was by her side, breathing heavily, but Twilight’s ears were ringing.

Applejack was in front of her, saying words that might as well have been in a different tongue.

And then Pinkie was there instead. She wasn’t smiling. Instead, she took Twilight by the hoof, guiding her somewhere. Twilight didn’t know where, but she let Pinkie take her. Anywhere was better than here.

She thought she heard a thud behind her. A heavy object connecting with a skull. She thought she might have heard a scream.
But how could she have when she heard nothing at all?

I could have saved a life today. I think I could have.

I think I could have.

But I froze. Like I froze with Lyra… like I hid behind a rock because I couldn’t kill her.

Maybe I couldn’t have saved a life today.

Her name was Twinkle Shine and I did not know her. I met her friend, Foggy Night. She’s a pegasus. But all the pegasi are dead, or borgs or…
I hate this world. I hate that I woke up here. I wish that crystal at my palace had had the decency to kill me. Then I wouldn’t be here, then I wouldn’t have needed to save anypony.

I didn’t save her. I watched her die. I watched her turn.

It’s Lyra all over again.

Rarity killed the husk.

I think Applejack killed Twinkle. She won’t tell me. She doesn’t speak about it. I… did I ask her? I don’t remember. I don’t remember getting into Baltimare at all.

Everypony’s asleep and I think I slept too. I think… I think Pinkie took me to the cart to sleep and then I was in the town. I don’t remember meeting anypony. They shuffled us inside like we were illegal goods being transported under the shroud of night.

Shroud of red.

Blood.

Blood is red.

Blood is red. Black.

I should have saved her.

I failed again.

Author's Notes:

Hey-Hey, me again! The last chapter pushed this story to over 1,000 total views. I can't thank you all enough! I'm so glad you're enjoying it. Until next time!